


The First Shall Be Last

by cloudsarefluffy



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), Red Dead Redemption 2
Genre: :), Alpha Arthur Morgan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Cowgirl Position, F/M, Female Reader, Im tired, Knotting, Mating Bites, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Omega Reader, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Protective Arthur Morgan, Smut, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Young Arthur Morgan, aye, but it's not exactly to time of the canon storyline either, partially, ruts, so like whateverrr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-11-06 10:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17938412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudsarefluffy/pseuds/cloudsarefluffy
Summary: On Tumblr, alimuse asked:Oh my Lord your abo fic was one of the best I've ever read, I'm so glad I stumbled upon it! The writing is brilliant, I was able to imagine and follow everything clearly, and feel the tension! I sure hope you'll write another abo fic. If I may suggest, maybe one with a fem omega in heat and alpha Arthur in rut, now that could be something. Whatever it is, looking forward to your next one! Kudos!---Karen shakes her head, throwing her arms into the air, “But there’s been time since then, I’m s-sure! All these heats since you ran off and you ain’t ever spent one with an alpha?! You ain’t even tried to be knotted just for the fun of it!?”Her voice is far too loud for your liking, and you come close, trying to shush her, “Karen—”“Uh, Ms. Jones?”You freeze, dread filling you like lead as you slowly pivot your head to the source of that too-familiar and damning voice. Your eyes are wide, and your heart grows rampant as you come face to face with none other than a very,veryflustered Arthur Morgan.





	The First Shall Be Last

**Author's Note:**

> lol, so like. I'm dying y'all. I did the Thomas Downes mission with my second Arthur, and like... :')
> 
> I wrote this to distract myself at the damnation I've just saddled my favorite cowpoke with. May write some more because a boi needs some emotional downtime, lol.
> 
> Also, I did get a good laugh, because I got a touch screen laptop, and when I was selecting "Arthur Morgan/Reader" for the ship, I accidentally clicked "Arthur Morgan/Dutch Van Der Linde" and didn't notice until I was about to post the draft. Ah. The things I do to myself.
> 
> Enjoy!~

“What does bein’ knotted feel like?” 

You drop the book you were reading down onto the ground, your jaw about with it as you jerk your head towards Karen. 

She’s leaning against the boxes piled against your wagon, a bottle in one hand and the other resting under her chin. There’s a frown as plain as the sun in the sky on her face as you mirror your own to her. 

“Ain’t that a bit of a personal question?” 

“So you have.” 

A bit of anger flashes across your face, and you pick up your book gruffly, marking your page before regarding Karen again, “Karen, I’m not sure what’s gotten into you except for a bit too much to drink, but I’m gonna go ahead and tell you that you better drop this before I make ya.” 

You usually don’t get angry enough to make threats like this. Especially not with Karen. You know how she is— with her brutal curiosity and a mouth she never quite gets a hold of. But even for her this is far too pressing and intimate. 

She holds up her hands, sloshing a bit of her whiskey to spill past the lip of the bottle and either drip down her arm or into the soil. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, forgot,” she huffs, “You’re a city girl. You don’t like talkin’ ‘bout _undignified_ things.” 

You glare her way for her mocking, “I can get as undignified as I want, whether I was raised in a house or a barn. That just isn’t somethin’ you ask someone about, Karen!” 

“Well, I don’t know who else to ask!” 

You blink at her outburst, and she deflates. She looks lost, confused, and you feel a bit of regret at prickling so soon to her questioning. Even if it were a bit. . . forward. 

“It’s... it’s Sean,” she grumbles, coming closer to keep things between the two of you, “He— he offered to spend his rut with me.” 

Raising a brow, you scoot a little to allow Karen to sit down onto the blanket you’re resting on, “Did he?” 

“Yeah... I’m nervous, though. I ain’t— I ain’t ever been with an alpha before...” 

Tilting your head with understanding, your murmur, “So you came to me...” 

“I meant it when I s-said I don’t know who else to ask,” she mutters, looking a bit dejected, “I didn’t want Sean to bed me and I be the worst lay ever, or that I mess up and get hurt or—” 

“Well, if you keep gettin' paranoid, you’re just gonna work yourself into a tizzy, and that won’t be no fun for anyone,” you point out. 

Shrugging, Karen takes a sip of her whiskey before speaking, “He’s just so confident. I mean, I know he’s been with omegas and betas, and I’ve been with others before him too, but... not like that.” 

“Well... I have to be honest, Karen... I ain’t ever been with an alpha, either. Not like that.” 

The admission throws her, and she looks to you in utter disbelief, “So you’re to tell me you never had an alpha like that?” 

“Nope. Pa kept ‘em away, but it’s ‘cause he intended on marryin’ me off. A lot of the families there were of old blood and old money. He wanted me as _pure_ as possible, that way he’d get more from it... The alpha he chose for me was pompous and wanted to do nothin’ more than control me. I had other ideas. And they ain’t changed since.” 

Karen shakes her head, throwing her arms into the air, “But there’s been time since then, I’m s-sure! All these heats since you ran off and you ain’t ever spent one with an alpha?! You ain’t even tried to be knotted just for the fun of it!?” 

Her voice is far too loud for your liking, and you come close, trying to shush her, “Karen—” 

“Uh, Ms. Jones?” 

You freeze, dread filling you like lead as you slowly pivot your head to the source of that too-familiar and damning voice. Your eyes are wide, and your heart grows rampant as you come face to face with none other than a very, _very_ flustered Arthur Morgan. 

“I—” Arthur’s eyes stop on you and stay there for a minute, your gazes locked on one another for some moments before he rips his away, shaking his head slightly and turning to Karen, “I got that broach of yours back... The one that man in Valentine stole from ya.” 

Karen lights up, unbothered by the tension between the two of you as she moves to stand, “Aw, Arthur! You’re the best! An honorable alpha, no doubt!” 

Arthur winces lightly, rubbing at his neck and looking sheepishly towards his muddied boots, “Well, uh, I wouldn’t know about that...” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t know confidence if it came and hit ya in the face, Arthur,” Karen comes close, and she takes the broach that Arthur offers out to her awkwardly, “You help a lot of us with whatever we need, no matter what it is.” 

His eyes peek at you from under the brim of his hat for a moment before he pointedly focuses himself elsewhere, swallowing thickly, “Startin’ to regret that...” 

“Hush up before I knock ya good,” Karen flicks the brim of Arthur’s hat, and it gets a bit of a smirk out of him, “I’ll find a way to make it up to you. Now go on, us ladies were talkin’ ‘bout undignified things, and we don’t need the company!” 

Arthur flushes, and he quickly nods to you both, scurrying away without a word as you put your face into your hands. 

You hear Karen plop herself back down beside you, oblivious or as uncaring as ever for the mortification of her own design plaguing you. She giggles, offering her bottle to you. 

“You look like you need a drink.” 

“A drink is the last thing I need...” 

She laughs, boisterous and lively, “Oh, I think we all know what _you_ need—” 

“Karen!” 

She takes back her bottle, holding her hands up in surrender before leaning back, smiling dreamily. 

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to imagine what it’ll be like until it finally happens...” 

As you chance to look over to the other side of camp where Arthur’s tent is, you take in the alpha throwing cold water onto his face from the small bucket where he shaves in the morning. He still looks a bit off from the exchange from earlier, especially when he happens to notice your attention, his eyes naturally seeking yours and widening when they meet. 

He scrambles, nearly knocking over his bucket of water and his mirror before he makes his way into his tent, hunched and embarrassed as you drop your gaze down into your lap. 

And it’s then that you realize, as sudden as it is unexpected, that Karen will not be alone with that particular fancy.

**\---**

You’ve never been the one to desire an alpha.

At least, not outright. 

It was expected. Biologically, your heats made you wanton and needing of one, and your body craved to be mated to a strong alpha. But your mind was on a completely different page. 

After you presented, it was true, what you had told Karen. You hated the alphas in the city you grew up in. The roses and smiles they sent to you were mere lures into a life you knew wouldn’t be worth what they would put you through. They were... _traditional,_ in the sense that they believed you were better staying at home, washing dishes, taking care of the kids. 

But that’s not what you wanted. You hated the prospect, of being treated like a pretty little thing, kept in the gilded cage of a fine estate or the arms of your alpha, mattering nothing more than your heats and what you could offer from them. 

You were a romantic in the sense that you wanted an alpha who viewed you as an equal. As a person instead of just an omega they could mate and mark as their own. You wanted to meet them, edge for edge, and feel that there was truly a bond between your souls as much as there was a physical one. 

Years have passed since then, and you’re older. In some ways, wiser and less naïve, but you figure there’s still some ways to go. Especially now as you run with the Van Der Linde gang. 

Your father... he would be livid. 

But then again he was whenever you rejected the marriage he was forcing you into. 

That bastard, Silas Quinn... 

You still remember having to meet him, to be poorly courted under the guise of love when you had heard nothing more of Silas than how he loved his family’s money just as much as he loved getting his knot wet. You’d also heard of how he treated omegas after he was done using them, often beating them or sending them away to places they never came back from. To be married to such a monster, it was a death sentence. 

And when your father did nothing more than encourage you to do the honors under the binding of marriage and law, you knew there was a better life for you out there. One of your own choice and will. 

And so you ran, leaving behind the cobbled streets you’d known since you could walk alongside everything else, and you’ve never looked back. 

You don’t regret it. Never have. And you know that, despite the hard times the gang has fallen on, you made the right choice when you were younger. 

But... have you always made the right choice? 

You’ve been on the run for almost ten years, and every single day that has passed since you snuck out of your house and into the world waiting for you, you haven’t ever given an alpha the time of day. 

Sure, there have been offers, but you have never made good on them, or shown interest. There hasn’t ever been a reason to. 

Well... until now. 

Maybe it’s Karen’s doing, or maybe it’s your body gaining a bit more of an upper hand. But these days spent in the gang... They don’t feel as they used to. 

This life, it was once fulfilling. You believed Dutch, when you met him all those years ago, that the one you were leading was one of free will and pride. You were crafting your own destiny, reigning over your life without a worry for an alpha to answer to, or to take control. It felt that all you needed was yourself, and the rest would just fall into place. 

But now, things feel... different. Despite being surrounded by people you know would die for you just as you would die for them, something is starting to grow hollow. People are changing, especially Dutch, and not for the better. 

He doesn’t act like the man you tried to rob in desperation all those years ago. He’s almost as though he’s a stranger wearing a mask— a familiar face spewing familiar words, but being fundamentally different and foreign at his core. 

The ferry robbery in Blackwater proved that, and you have felt unsettled ever since. 

For the first time since you joined, you think about leaving. About running away just as you did when your father tried to work a ring on your finger and an alpha you hated into your life. 

Dutch always tried to tell you to think for yourself, to dream of a life you wanted, and as odd as it may be to use the advice from the man who practically raised you into the life you’re thinking of abandoning, you can’t help but wonder what else could lie in store for you. 

The idea of you running off on your own... it’s never been impressive or a craving. 

You can still remember how terrifying it all was— being by yourself on the streets, huddling in corners and barely sleeping with the fear of being attacked. The terror of possibly being found, either by the men you knew were sent after you by Silas and your father, or when your heats crept onto you. 

Some nights you still lie awake or are woken by the memories. Of the way you felt you were one moment away from losing it all. 

If you run, you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. 

And there were others— others who you cared for and you knew were swept up into this as you were. Good people with misfortune and no other choices, they were. And of course, there was Jack. 

But if there was one person you thought of the most when it came to running, it was Arthur. 

Arthur, the alpha who has changed so much in the time you have run with the gang. 

You still remember him when he was younger, about the age you are now. His twenties were wild and golden, and he was often braced with the company of swooning omegas. Be it one-night stands, or Mary, when she captured his fancy. He rarely spent a night alone, and you remember how awful he was to take into town, constantly getting himself into trouble or of the beds of his chosen omega for the night. 

He had tried with you, at first, but you could tell it was all superficial. You were a new, shiny thing, pretty and not experienced yet by him. The comments he made were as lewd as they were impersonal, and he found himself a bit baffled when you didn’t meet his interest with open arms. You couldn’t, not when you knew it meant nothing to him. And after rejecting him a few times, making it clear that you weren’t going to agree to be nothing but another notch on his belt just for the hell of it, he quickly lost that shine. 

The shine that took to all omegas that crossed his path, that looked in his direction or gave him a second out of their day. That smile of his would break out, he’d turn his voice to be as sweet and thick as honey, and he’d go on to play them like fiddles until he wanted after another song. 

You thought he’d never settle. 

And then, there was Mary. 

And with Mary? He was even worse. He did stop seeing other omegas, for that you will give him credit, but the way he absorbed into her made little to no difference. He often spent time with her or brought her along into camp. They were lovesick, two young people, alpha and omega, caught up in the haze of pheromones and cupid’s arrow. You often grew tired of their presence as they doted on one another, and when it led to things far too intimate for you to hear or see. 

Arthur, much to Dutch and Hosea’s displeasure, was a bit egotistical and driven by his knot. He was merely like any other alpha his age while in their prime, despite all of their lobbying to prevent such a thing. 

But then Mary broke off their engagement, leaving Arthur’s heart just as shattered, left behind like the ring he would hold in his fingers and curse at. 

And then Eliza, an omega he’d met and got pregnant while you were staying near Armadillo, she and their son, Isaac, were killed during a robbery all over a meager ten dollars. 

It broke Arthur. Completely tore him into two pieces. Heartbreak, tragedy, loss. It was as though someone went inside of Arthur and got his soul into a chokehold, squeezing tightly and nearly snuffing it out with their vice. 

He struggled for so long, growing distant and quiet before he began to heal in what little ways he could. 

After that, he got with no other omegas. Not even for his ruts. And you found yourself watching out of concern from the sidelines as the man you had been growing up with became a different one entirely. 

But, despite all of the pain, all of the hurt he underwent, Arthur shifted into something... better. 

He became kinder, more understanding. His opinion of omegas shifted from that of a fun night to people just like himself. He began to talk to you more as an individual and became less and less stuck up about things. 

He treated you like a friend, and in turn, you treated him as one too. There was a budding trust between you two, and for the first time since Dutch to you into the ranks, you actually felt a bond with Arthur instead of a begrudging tolerance. 

And now, here you are, years later. 

Time has only mellowed him out further, and the man that he has become has surprised you any time you think back to how he was when you first met. The way he comforts Sadie, welcomed Kieran, despises Micah, objects to Dutch— it’s only driven how much he’s changed further and further until you realize just how different he is, and how he’s morphing ever still. 

Yes— people were changing, that was for sure. 

And you were one of them. 

Because for the first time since you presented, you’ve found yourself wanting after an alpha. 

And to make this all even more damning and something you never imagined in a thousand years, it is all over an alpha named Arthur Morgan.

**\---**

It was a grim morning, a few weeks after you and the gang arrived at the makeshift haven that was Horseshoe. It had been threatening to rain all day, with the way the clouds hung overhead, and you look up at them drearily, sighing as the wind blow at your hair.

You and the girls have been miserable, being overworked and dragged by Ms. Grimshaw every which way. She’s been in a mighty fine temper, and Karen has only fought back just as much with her own attitude. It’s been driving you, Mary-Beth, and Tilly insane, and you’re not sure how much you can take with the way you’ve been feeling. 

Jack has been sick, and he’s given his bug to about half the camp. You’re still coming up after falling ill with it for the past few days before it seems like the worst of it has passed. But having to hear Karen and Grimshaw lay into each other over and over was enough to make anyone sick. 

So, when Mary-Beth overhears Uncle asking Arthur to take them into town, she jumps on the opportunity to get you and the girls out of camp. 

She comes to fetch you, all excited for the first time in a while, and you feel your own build up in light of hers. Especially when you catch sight of Arthur smiling warmly your way, happy to let you come along. 

“I can’t wait to see civilization! It feels so long since we did!” Tilly remarks as she climbs into the back of the wagon. 

You smirk from the back corner from where you lean against the wood, allowing the other girls to get settled. 

From his seat at the front of the wagon, Arthur leans over, looking to you with his face pinched, “Hey, you okay?” 

“Yeah, still feelin’ a bit under the weather, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, your cheeks slightly burning, ”Ain’t no need to worry ‘bout me.” 

He nods, leaning back some, “Well, if you need to ride back, just let me know. I can run you back to camp if ya need.” 

“Thanks...” 

On the ride over, the girls sing. You hum along, but don’t join in completely. Their song of choice is a bit much for your tastes, but it’s the first time they’ve belted out a tune in a while, and you’d rather hear them sing about anything else over silence. 

They’re just about to hit the main chorus after Mary-Beth messes up the words and tempo when you hear a curse and a crash to the side. You sit up some, peering over the side of the wagon as Arthur slows it to see a man, his carriage stranded as two of his horses come loose. 

“Goddamit!” 

“You boys gonna catch that poor man’s horse?” 

Uncle leans back, looking as pressed as he is untruthful, “Well, I uh, I can’t! I have lumbago! It’s serious, I can’t go sprainin’ my poor, old back catchin’ that horse! I’d be done for!” 

“Really, old man? You’re gonna pull that one on me today?” Arthur sends Uncle a condescending look, and the older man frowns and looks away, “Just— at least be useful by holdin’ the reigns. Damn back should be fine for that.” 

Uncle mutters something as Arthur shakes his head, hopping down onto the ground to share a few short words with the carriage driver before jogging in the direction of his spooked Ardennes. 

You watch as he slows, walking towards the horse and holding his hands up to calm it. The poor creature is unsteady on its hooves, looking startled still as Arthur approaches. But he doesn’t waiver, patiently nearing until he’s able to come up and give its side a good pat. It settles the horse a good amount, enough to where Arthur can grab ahold of its reigns, and can begin leading it back to the stagecoach. 

“There ya go, Arthur!” Mary-Beth cheers. 

You smile fondly as the man thanks Arthur gratefully, and the man flushes some under the praise. 

“You’re a good man, sir!” he calls after him as Arthur hops back onto the wagon. 

“Nah, ain’t good. Just... tryna impress the women,” Arthur mutters. 

The man laughs, as do the girls, and you shake your head as Arthur puts the wagon into motion again. 

“Oh, pretend as much as you want, Arthur, you have a heart,” Tilly starts, “Well, maybe a tiny thing in your chest that’s meant to resemble one, but it does its best!” 

“And we sure as hell know it wasn’t to impress us three!” Karen shouts. 

You don’t miss the way Arthur’s shoulder bunch up at that, “Shut up...” 

Frowning, you turn to the trio of girls, all of which are grinning like mad towards you. Before you can figure as to what’s going on, Uncle intrudes on the moment, much like he always does. 

“Say, Arthur, head towards the general store. I need to pick up a few things.” 

“Okay,” the man steers the horses down the road accordingly, “But everyone, just remember, we’re not to make a huge fuss!” 

Laughing, it’s Karen who replies, “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Arthur! You know we are saints!” 

“Maybe, if today were one of opposites.” 

Karen laughs, and the girls go about talking of what they want to do now they’re in town, while Uncle tells Arthur about the sheriff’s office. 

You huddle up in the back, silent until the wagon comes to a stop by the stables before Arthur looks to you. 

“Where are you goin’? With us, or the girls?” 

You look between the two of them, thinking about it for a moment. 

“I’ll uh... Well, I guess I’ll wander around with the girls.” 

Arthur nods, “Alright. We’ll be at the general store if you need us.” 

You walk over to the girls and send him a small smile, “Have fun.” 

“With this parasite? I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Scandalized, Uncle faces the alpha then, “Hey!” 

“You’re my favorite parasite,” Arthur begins to explain as you walk away, and you shake your head with a slight laugh as you heard Uncle come second to ringworm, and then rats with a plague. 

You fall a little bit behind the girls as you walk up the strip, nearing the curve of the street when Karen points down the road. 

“That feller right there seems interestin’ enough. Think I could trick him into takin’ me to the hotel to rob him blind?” 

“I dunno, Karen, that sounds rather... daring,” Mary-Beth frowns as she looks to her friend. 

“I ain’t nothin’ but darin’! Look, if he does anythin’, I’ll just scream. What’s the worst that can happen?” 

Tilly shakes her head as Karen breaks off, “That girl is somethin’ else.” 

“Well, that just leaves us three... What’s caught y’all’s eyes?” 

Tilly and Mary-Beth look to you, and you shrug, crossing your arms over one another, “I haven’t seen much yet.” 

“Come on then. There’s gotta be more to this town than just sheep and horseshit.” 

You laugh softly at Tilly’s remark, and you begin walking up the street together. 

A few men pass you three, and their eyes linger. At one point you smell one of them, an alpha, and the way his eyes track you and the girls makes your skin all about crawl. You tuck yourself tighter in between Tilly and Mary-Beth, your stomach feeling a bit off at the feeling of something wrong. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Somethin’... somethin’ ain’t right,” you admit, “Just got a feelin’.” 

“Arthur is just down the street. If somethin’ is wrong, it’s got him to answer to,” Mary-Beth reassures you with a warm smile. 

“Oh, he’d get this whole town into a brawl over you,” Tilly giggles, as you near the train station. 

Flushing, you shake your head, “No he wouldn’t!” 

“Either your eyes don’t work, or you’re in denial of what you see!” she scolds, “That man has been head over heels for you since the day I joined this circus of outlaws.” 

“You don’t know him as I do...” 

“But you don’t notice what we do,” Tilly huffs. 

You go to argue with her, your lips set into a scowl when the door to the station bursts open. You watch as a man comes through the doors, having most likely come off the train that just starts to leave the station. 

The wind carries his scent over, and you about stumble when it hits you. It’s unmistakable, and you find a whine building up in your throat in response. 

_Rut._

“Is he—” 

Before Mary-Beth can finish, the man looks to you, and your stomach sinks even further. 

It’s... it’s Silas. 

Silas’ red eyes linger on you for a moment, taking you in, before he lets that familiar, creepy smile pull at his lips. He takes a step forward, and you immediately go to bolt down the street. 

“Ain’t this the dandiest site...” 

You pale, all about slipping in the mud below. 

“Oh, don’t you think you can run now, omega!” 

Especially when you gasp, grabbing at your abdomen as a damning feeling overcomes you, stopping you dead as you collapse with it to the ground. 

Silas’ rancid scent clogs your nose, your body reacting without your permission in the last way you want it to. 

“Shit, are you—” 

“Oh sweetheart, how I’ve missed you all these years,” Silas says, reaching and grabbing onto you before you come back from the searing pain in your middle, his eyes lurid as you look up to him in fear. 

“Let go of her!” 

“Like hell, I will!” Silas hisses, the grip he has on your arm as searing as it is painful as he bares his teeth, pulling you against him, “You may not know her as I do, but this whore was meant to be my wife years ago but ran out on me. Lord only knows what, or who, she’s done since, but I have no intent on lettin’ her go.” 

“Mary-Beth, go run and get Arthur!” 

“Arthur?” Silas looks back at you as Mary-Beth sprints away, his black hair no longer tidy and as wild as the look in his eyes, “Is that who you’re spreadin’ your legs for now, sweetheart?” 

You shiver in Silas’ hold, sweat beginning to pool on your skin as you shake your head with a whimper. 

“You let her—” 

Silas knocks Tilly back down into the street, snarling at her and twisting your wrist in the process. You cry out, your wrist pulsing in pain while Tilly scrambles in the mud below. 

With the present threat discarded, Silas looks back to you. 

“Ah, now don’t lie to me,” he snakes a finger under your chin, forcing you to face him, “You’ve already been bad enough, and I’d hate to make this even worse for you if you don’t tell me the truth.” 

“I ain’t lyin’,” you hiss, “But I sure as _hell_ ain’t goin’ with you, neither.” 

Silas hums, taking in the way your eyes are slowly turning gold in response to his rut, “Ah, but your body says differently, sweetheart.” 

You glare his way, feeling your heat start to pull you deeper despite every fiber of your being wishing otherwise, “I’d rather die than ever be with you! I ran for a reason, you bastard!” 

He growls at you, raising his hand and smacking you hard across the cheek. Your head feels like its vibrating as you blink from the hit, your body shuddering as he shakes you roughly. 

“You ran because you’re a damn omega who needs to learn her place!” Silas seethes, “And if I gotta force you under me, then I god damn will—” 

“You won’t be doin’ nothin’ but lettin’ her go!” 

A cry escapes you, one of utter relief and gratefulness at the sound of that beautiful voice. You turn your head shakily, vision blurred with tears as you see Arthur quickly approaching, carrying himself with that threatening gate of his. 

He radiates power in a way that makes Silas feel like a match to the sun, his eyes bleeding red and his lips twitching against his teeth. His entire aura makes you shudder, and you breathe out softly. 

“Arthur...” 

Silas hears you, and he growls. 

“You’ve been fuckin’ my omega, have you?” 

“ _Let her go._ ” 

Silas laughs, “If you think I’m gonna let this whore walk away from me, then you have another thing comin’.” 

Arthur moves his hand down to the holster at his side, his glare as heated as fire as he begins to pull it from his hip. 

“The only thing comin’ for you is a damn bullet.” 

“Really? You’re gonna shoot me over this omega? Why? I’m sure you and every other alpha here have had her at least twice. Can’t you smell her? She went into heat as soon as she saw me,” he seethes, “She ain’t worth the trouble for you. Let me just have my way with her, and I promise I won’t bother you none.” 

Arthur snarls, raising his gun and aiming it at Silas, “You ain’t worth the dirt it’ll take to cover your sorry ass.” 

Silas laughs, and you cry out as he shoves you aside, forcing you down into the mud below as he stalks towards Arthur. 

“You wanna fight over an omega, fine. We might as well make it fun,” he says darkly, rolling up his shirt sleeves. 

Before Arthur can react, Silas leaps at him, knocking Arthur down onto the ground and causing his cattleman to land a few feet away. 

They both roar at each other, carnal and nothing but instinct, and they begin to fight there on the street. 

Mary-Beth and Tilly run over to you, pulling you up from the ground as you hiss. You can see the alphas fighting in the street, both blood and mud coating them as they rip into one another. 

“Oh my god,” Karen’s voice has you turning to where she runs up to you all, “I— I heard a commotion outside, and just— come on, I have a room at the hotel we can put her in.” 

Townsfolk gather around as Silas and Arthur wrangle and tear each other apart in the street, and you are practically carried by Mary-Beth and Tilly. Tears stream down your face, both from pain and the distraught feeling you have as you look over your shoulder, watching as Silas pins Arthur down and the alpha grabs at his wrist. 

“B-But Arthur—” 

“You’re in heat! We got more pressin’ things to worry about right now!” Karen hisses, but she looks back, making a conflicted noise, “Take her to the hotel! I’ll stay here and make sure that, no matter what, Silas won’t come her way.” 

The girls nod to her and continue on towards the hotel. 

Your body feels too hot, and you breathe roughly as you're carried down the street of Valentine. People rush past you, eager to catch sight of the two alphas trying to kill one another at the end of the road than to pay you much mind. 

When you enter the hotel, the keeper pales at the sight of you, about stepping out from behind his desk. 

“What are you—” 

“Shut it,” Tilly hisses, and they quickly head up towards the stairs. 

You’re well into your heat now, and you can tell it’s going to be a rough one. It’s more than likely due to Silas’ rut, your body responding in kind. 

When the girls crash into the last room at the end of the hall, you’re moaning, lolling your head about and practically muttering incoherencies as they rip off your ruined dress. 

“We got you, don’t worry...” 

Tilly grabs a bucket with water to clean you up while Mary-Beth tends to your wrist. It’s not broken, but it damn well hurts as she gauges how badly Silas injured it. 

Together, they try to make you comfortable, but there really is no relief to what is truly plaguing you as they whisper apology after apology. They dress you in a sorry shirt that they found leftover in one of the wardrobes, the fabric of it long enough just to stop mid-thigh. 

It’s not decent, not in the slightest, but it’s a whole hell of a lot better than being completely naked. 

You’re not sure how much time has passed, but Karen finally arrives however much later, looking breathless. 

“We’re gonna have to take her elsewhere, now.” 

“What do you mean? We can’t move her! She’s in heat and the way she’s dressed? We’ll just be offerin’ her to god knows what else!” 

Ignoring Tilly, Karen goes to pick you up, looking a bit panicked. 

“It’s Arthur, he—” they manage to get you out of the door, “He’s in rut.” 

“Shit...” 

“He beat Silas. Literally and in the fight. And it triggered his own,” Karen moves you to the end of the hall, towards the door that leads out the back way of the building, “He’s comin’ this way now, and I don’t think we’re gonna get her past—” 

A low growl resonates from the end of the hall, and you feel Karen stiffen against you, as though she was turning to stone. You, however, fall limp, your eyes moving to where a familiar hulking form stands at the end of the hall. 

Amidst all of the mud and even spatters of blood caking his face, Arthur’s eyes burn a dark, vicious red, and you know your own flash gold in response. He rumbles, his chest heaving with his shoulders mostly exposed from where Silas had ripped his shirt apart during their fight. 

He takes a step forward, and you whimper. Especially when the girls go to block his path. 

Tilly and Mary-Beth come forward, bracing themselves as a hungered and infuriated snarl escapes Arthur at their meddling, and he looks rather impatient with them. 

“Arthur, you ain’t got your head on straight!” Tilly cries as Karen goes to move you out of the back door, struggling with both the weight of you and the way you try and claw towards Arthur, “Get ahold of yourself!” 

Nothing quite registers with Arthur then, his eyes solely training on you and the way that you fight to get closer, despite Karen’s cursing and hands pulling you back. It’s obvious he’s well into his rut, nothing more than the primal urge to get to the omega he had just challenged another alpha over and won. 

You see the way Karen’s face pales, and she moves, attempting to drag you out of the hallway. 

“Come on—” 

Before Karen can move you further, Arthur stalks forward, his red eyes trained on you as Mary-Beth and Tilly attempt to confront them. He pushes them out of the way, their resistance barely stopping the alpha until he’s right in front of Karen. 

“Let. Go.” 

His voice is the lowest you’ve ever heard it, and Karen shudders some in the face of his upset. 

He’s never been like this. Ever. Even with his regular ruts. 

Something has changed. 

“Arthur,” Karen pleads, low and soft, “you don’t have to—” 

Arthur ignores her, and he grabs onto you, unlatching Karen’s hand with little issue despite her and the other girls’ cries. You welcome it though, groaning and falling into his embrace eagerly as he rumbles. 

He holds you close, taking you and dragging you back into the hotel room and slamming the doors before the girls can separate you both. 

They bang against the wood for some moments, but you hardly care, instead looking up to the alpha whose face is pinched. 

“Did...” Arthur looks like struggling to work the words out, and he moves you to the bed, “Did he hurt you?” 

You breathe, feeling the mattress dip underneath you as he lays you out. 

“F-Fine,” is what you’re able to reply with, and you bring an unsteady hand up, cupping his face and wiping some of the mud and muck away from his skin, “You?” 

Arthur rumbles, leaning into your touch and closing his eyes. 

“M’fine...” 

You spend just a few moments breathing, and then, the girls’ pounding on the door stops. You think they realize that there’s not much use now. And besides, if they intruded, you’re certain you or Arthur would have their heads. 

Together, you lay on the bed, amidst one another’s presence as your mind slightly catches back up. Just being in Arthur’s presence alone has brought relief, and you whimper as he leans down, his lips ghosting against your neck. 

“I killed him...” he tells you, as reverent about relishing your skin as he is icily uttering those words, “We fought, and I killed him...” 

You run your hands up the back of Arthur’s neck, sinking your fingers into his dirtied hair and relishing it, “Bastard deserved it.” 

“I remember you tellin’ me about him. The alpha you ran ‘way from, the one your daddy tried to wed you off to,” he says, quiet, his lips pressing lightly near the lobe of your ear, “I’d done more, but I had you to take care of, darlin’.” 

You shudder, feeling that tight, pulsing heat rise in kind to Arthur’s words, “Only want you, Arthur...” 

The alpha rumbles, and you can scent his rut— spiced and heated, warm and matching the fire that stokes within you as you spread your thighs to where it burns the most. 

“I’ve wanted this for so long, darlin’,” he says it like he’s been starving, hungered and wanting, “I’ve wanted you for so long...” 

“Then take it—” you pull him back just enough, face to face, red to gold, “—take me.” 

He snarls low, and you raise up your neck, the strands of your hair falling away as he licks his way up your collar and onto your throat. 

You moan, your back arching off of the bed as his large hands begin to explore the planes of your body, taking their time to feel every curve and fold until they reach the buttons of the shirt your wearing. 

Arthur doesn’t falter, keeping his mouth at your neck, moving his lips up to the edge of your jaw as he rips the shirt apart, seams ripping and buttons sent cascading down onto the mattress and floor. He growls, leaning back to take in the sight of you, flushed and laid open for him, your eyes locked onto him. 

You watch, taking in his face and the way his eyes trace down your form, taking in every inch of you. Your breaths quicken, your chest falling as he stares at your breasts, until moving lower to the curve of your navel and the start of your hips. 

The heat between your legs grows hotter still, and so does Arthur’s attention, rapidly moving down to where you’re wet and wanting for him between your thighs. 

“Oh, darlin’...” 

He licks his lips, and he snaps his eyes to yours. They’re the darkest red that you have ever seen, and you pant, your eyelids lowering until you gaze at him from under your lashes, as timid as you are enticing. 

“A-Alpha.” 

It sets something off in Arthur, and you can see the way he tenses. With the way his shirt was ripped in the fight, the sight of his skin and muscles pulling taught moves your focus. You take in the swell of his arms, at the raw power his body radiates. 

And when he notices your attention, he smirks, going to remove the poor remnants of his union shirt. 

“Like what you see, _omega?”_

Your mouth goes dry, and your eyes widen some as the rest of the ruined material falls away, leaving Arthur’s entire torso bare to your gaze. 

His tanned skin is something to behold, glistening with sweat, streaked with mud and some blood from his earlier fight. There’s some light bruising starting along his ribs and shoulders, and a few marks from where Silas managed to scratch or cut his skin. 

You watch the way his ribs move with his deepened breaths, his wide shoulders and the way it all tapers down perfectly to his waist. 

And _oh,_ when your gaze drops lower. . . 

Slowly, Arthur’s hand comes up, cupping the large outline in the muddied denim of his ranch pants, and your breath stills in your lungs. 

“See what you do to me?” he tells you, breathless as he gives the swollen length pressing and fighting against the denim a squeeze, a hiss escaping him then and his words just as sharp, “Jesus, darlin’, I ain’t ever been this worked up before...” 

“I—” you reach a hand forward, as curious as you are wanting, “I’ve never...” 

When your hand moves to rest beside Arthur’s, you swallow, feeling the way his cock is pulsing underneath your fingertips, thick and heavy. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and his hips give a slight roll into your touch. 

“Darlin’,” he exhales hotly, and he moves his hand to your wrist, squeezing lightly. 

“I want to. . .” you lean forward, words escaping you as you move on instinct, now pawing at the button of his jeans. 

Arthur does the honors, pulling apart the denim and quickly working it off of himself. And when he’s clear of it, you feel your heart race, your eyes focused on his large cock and the way it bulges between his thighs. 

There are no words to be exchanged, as Arthur follows your cue. You move him, setting him down against the bed until your positions have been switched, with you near the end and Arthur lying against the headboard. He watches you like a hawk, gaze darkened as you crawl up against him, focused so intently on his cock. 

Your heat, it’s in control, and you begin to breathe roughly as you position yourself. You’ve never been with an alpha, but you didn’t need to, simply letting your body perform as you move to where your glistening folds part deliciously over the tip of his cock. 

There’s a joint noise from the both of you, moans blurring into one as you sink your pussy down over his length, and savoring every inch. He grips onto your hips, his nails biting into your skin until you manage to seat yourself onto his cock entirely. 

You sit there for a moment, shuddering and flexing around him, feeling him stuffed inside of you. It’s tight, burning, and you partially work your hips as he places your foreheads together. 

And then, you move in earnest. 

It feels natural, the way you raise yourself and allow gravity to let you fall back down again, moving up and down, in and out, as you shake with it all. Arthur growls, bucking up into and looking as needy as you are as your pace quickens, as though you aim to drive him deeper and deeper with each thrust. 

You feel your heat ramp up, slick gushing from you and onto the alpha and the sheets below, and Arthur curses as you sink your nails into his back. 

Crashing together, his lips meet yours, nipping and biting at your own as you ride him. One of his hands sneaks down to your breast, cupping it and squeezing while the other tries to brace both of your weight. 

Soon, his mouth moves back to your neck, just as teasing as the feeling of his cock swelling with the beginnings of his knot. 

You quicken your pace, and sink deeper every time, learning the perfect way to roll your hips to where the drag is so delicious and painful, and it only edges you both on. 

Suddenly, Arthur grabs you, stopping you mid-roll and holding you against him as he flips you over in the blink of an eye. You fall against the bed with a thump, and your head lolls as he begins to fuck into you with earnest. You’re moaning, loud and about screaming mad with his thrusts as he begins to bite at your neck with the promise for more. 

Your nails rake down his back, drawing deep, red lines against his skin, welting with your own claim as Arthur’s canines puncture your skin. 

A scream escapes you, and you wrap your legs around Arthur’s waist as you feel his knot lock into you, filling you in a way that you didn’t know you needed until now. It feels so tight, with how he locks into you, and you throw your head back with him locked on your neck as you feel him come inside of you. 

He is snarling against your skin as you climax yourself, sinking his teeth in deeper as his hips offer a few aborted thrusts, edging you further up the mattress as you pant below him. 

The alpha above you almost goes limp, and you move with him as he comes down to lay on his side. 

You’re facing one another, your leg draping his hip and pulled flush against him from where his cock is buried into you, and you groan, your eyes fluttering before you’re able to somewhat come back to yourself. 

A few moments pass, and you both pant, out of breath as you feel a hand come up to cup your cheek. 

You look to him, seeing the way your blood reddens his lips before he licks it away, the red in his eyes giving away to that familiar and beautiful shade of blue. 

“There he is,” you breathe, beaming at him. 

He smiles back, bashful, “Ain’t the only one gettin' sense about them.” 

You chuckle, and to Arthur’s surprise, you come closer, nuzzling under his chin. He wraps his arms around you, and his hands run down the slope of your back. 

“Think this is the only thing that’s made sense in a long while,” you murmur against his collar. 

He hums, his fingers going to trace up and down your spine, “Can’t find a problem in that...” 

You lay together for a moment, and as your heat recedes further, you pull back enough to meet his eyes. He stares back at you, searching for something. 

“I—” you murmur, and you lick your lips before continuing, “I just... wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” he whispers back. 

“For Silas,” you cup his cheek, “For everything.” 

He smiles softly, bracing your hand with his own, “Ain’t nothin’ to thank me for.” 

“I feel like I should... There’s— there are not many alphas like you in the world.” 

At your words, he pulls you close, brushing your hair from your face before he drops his eyes to your neck. Gently, he brushes his thumb at the edge of his mating bite, his claim on you, and you feel just a little bit of its sting abate. 

And, just gently, he presses your lips together. 

You kiss for a moment, sweet and soft. It’s not demanding or as pressed as it was during the peaks of your heat and his rut, and you come to love the feeling of him against your lips. 

You make a bit of a forlorn noise when he pulls away, his eyes alight as he looks to you like you hung the sun. 

It’s then that you know. That none of this will be something you regret, that being mated to an alpha like Arthur would not be a curse, but a blessing. 

You know it in the way your heart soars at that moment, and with the way everything just feels _right_ for the first time in so long. 

And softly, he whispers. 

“I’m the lucky one here, darlin’.”

**\---**

The camp teases you when you get back. You’re not too surprised, but what does take you for a loop is the way they all _expected_ this.

Especially when the girls heave their breaths of relief before going on and on about “pining” and other things, and how they were about to lose their minds if something didn’t happen soon. 

“Thought I was gonna throttle him, I did,” Tilly starts, “’Bout time you did well on your word, Arthur!” 

That all has you looking to Arthur, your eyes narrowed as he rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“May... May have told ‘em how I felt ‘bout you,” he muttered, “More trouble than they were worth, that lot.” 

“Hey!” 

The girls didn’t leave you alone for ages until finally, they relented. 

That was until Karen managed to catch you on your own. 

You were reading, spread out by your wagon on your blanket and midway through your newest book. Arthur had grabbed it for you when he went into town recently, and you were quite enjoying it. 

Well, when you were getting to read it, that is... 

“Don’t tell me you got your nose down in those pages again.” 

You look up, finding Karen standing in front of you, her hands on her hips and the expression on her face looking mighty impatient. 

Groaning, you dog-ear the page you were on, quickly shutting the novel and looking to the blonde tapping her foot in front of you. 

“What do you want Karen?” 

“Say, I was needin’ some answers. And you’re the best person to ask.” 

Tilting your head, you squint your eyes at her, “And that might be pertaining to what?” 

A devilish grin spreads on her lips, and she leans in, her voice dropping low. 

“So...” she chuckles, “What does bein’ knotted by _Arthur_ feel like?” 

You blush brightly and answer Karen’s cackling by tossing your book directly into her face.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt me, ask me like google, or send things my way at:  
> sunshinexlollipops.tumblr.com/promptask


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